Hot Soup
by LelinChan
Summary: It's dinner time for Peter, but his arms hurt and he can't even pick up the spoon. What happens? Caspian feeds him. Caspian/Peter


**Disclaimer: I don't own CS Lewis' works and the movie, though if I owned William Moseley, that'd be great**

**Dedication: My brother, Lewis, and all the other wonderful readers who reviewed/read my CS Lewis fanfics.**

* * *

Frantic cries and murmurings could be heard from the prince's bedroom. Shadows danced wildly across the candle-lit walls, as the soft treading of feet and hooves grew louder and louder, disturbing the supposed sleep of the Talmarine prince.

"Water, fetch me some water!" Susan barked, her scream ringing through the halls.

The mob of humans and creatures disappeared into a room just right next to his, and Prince Caspian the Tenth, soon to be King, instantly leaped out of bed, nearly falling flat on his face. He knew who was being carried by a few dozen sets of arms, without even looking.

In a matter of seconds, Caspian was pushing through a huge crowd, which eventually did part away once realizing that their prince was there.

"What happened?" He demanded, shooting Susan a glare.

"Well…" the young woman was loss for words at first, but then managed to get back to her old self, "Peter was climbing a rather tall tree for some strange reason, and he… he fell." Upon receiving another glare, she added, "We did already use Lucy's healing juice, but he's still unconscious…"

Caspian sighed, muttering inappropriate words under his breath. "Well then," he snapped, finally looking up, "Go on, all of you-" at this, all else took their cues and hurried out of the High King's bedroom, "-I will watch him myself."

Seconds, minutes, and, gradually, hours passed on, but the prince still didn't bat so much as an eyelash. He sat there, on a (fortunately comfortable) armchair, gazing into the closed lids of the High King, often fighting the lustful urge to slide his tongue over the younger man's bare skin. In the end, as always, he would, just for a small while, imagine the two of them, two monarchs of Narnia, together, happily spending their time in each other's arms, but soon the image in his mind faded away as the door creaked open.

"I thought I told you to go away!" Caspian said coldly.

"Oh really? Sorry then, I wasn't there." Edmund's voice was, compared to the prince's, quite warm and easy-going. "Well, since I'm not wanted here, I guess I'll just get to the point, okay?" He placed a tray on a nearby desk, a bowl and spoon on top. "You'll be needing that. Goodbye!"

"What? But I'm not-"

The door slammed shut rather loudly, and Caspian felt a stir by his arm. Peter blinked a few times, slowly rubbing them with his fingers, and covered his mouth for a huge yawn. He looked around for a moment, jumping slightly when his eyes stopped on Caspian.

"Wha- wait, was the tree that tall? And where's Lucy?"

Caspian fought back a chuckle, biting the tip of his tongue as he felt his mouth muscles tighten. Then he saw the tray that held Peter's extremely late dinner. A soft rumble came from Peter's stomach, and Caspian sunk his teeth deeper into his tongue as he grabbed the tray, unfolding two hidden boards just beneath it, so that it now resembled some sort of a small, low table.

Carefully, Caspian placed the tray-table just over Peter's legs, gesturing at it with a small smile. "Eat, that's your dinner. You must be starving by now."

Peter nodded in agreement- his stomach felt empty and disturbingly hollow, as if his intestines weren't there at all. He picked up the spoon, but as soon as it dipped into the soup, his hand shook and he dropped it with a soft cry.

"Can you use your arms? Do they hurt?" Caspian asked, worry flashing in his alluring eyes. He was answered by a shake of Peter's head, then a nod. Caspian thought for a moment, before picking up the spoon himself.

"I'll feed you then."

Peter's eyes grew wide with shock, his mouth half-open. "Wh-wh-what?" He managed to stammer out, his voice trembling as if Caspian was about to rape him on the spot. "Y-you're going to-to… _feed me?_"

Caspian smiled, "I believe that was what I said, Peter, now open your mouth again, yes, just like that." He leaned in closer, but withdrew his hand as the younger man let out a gasp.

"Sorry, it's just that it's too hot."

Completely missing the lying tone of Peter's voice, Caspian apologized, at which Peter forgave him almost instantly. Caspian raised the spoon to his lips and blew in slowly, cooling it down. Again, he brought it to Peter's mouth.

"There, is that better?"

The High King nodded, a quiet smile forming on his beautiful face, and so they continued, Caspian blowing, Peter drinking, Caspian blowing, Peter drinking, until when the whole bowl was emptied. Peter looked quite satisfied, but he was the High King, so Caspian asked him if he wanted more to taste.

"Yes," Peter answered after a while of thinking, his smile growing bigger. "But I don't think you could ask the chefs to make it for me."

"Why not?" Caspian inquired, his brow furrowing, "What is it that you want?"

Peter bit his lower lip gently, locking his eyes with the older man's. He reached out to Caspian, and pulled him in by his silk shirt, their foreheads touching, sending shivers down their spines. Peter laced his arms around the older man's neck, and, as Caspian snaked his arms around Peter's waist, kissed him tenderly.

The broke away after a long while. Peter blushed as he touched his own lips with his fingers, memorizing the moment they had both been waiting for.

"Caspian… you taste nice. May I have some more?"


End file.
